


Death & Betrayal

by MarbleGlove



Series: Immortals and Wizards [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-15
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleGlove/pseuds/MarbleGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos takes a young Severus Snape under his wing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Смерть и Предательство](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929778) by [AOrvat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrvat/pseuds/AOrvat)



> This story was written in 2004 and thus doesn't take into account any canon after "The Order of the Phoenix".

Severus hated himself.

He was a young recent Hogwarts graduate and he was brilliant. He should be a potions apprentice. Instead, like a fool, he had believed and trusted the other, more popular members Slytherin, his school house. They had said that he would get a better master and learn more if he were affiliated with Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord. Potions were always somewhat dark. They used the death of the ingredients after all. And brilliant, powerful, young wizards did not always survive long under the care of ambitions old potions masters. But, Lucius had said, if he were under the protection of a dark lord he'd be treated better. And as soon as he became a master he could be the potions master to the new lord of the British wizarding world.

It had all sounded reasonable. Severus didn't really understand people and so he had trusted Lucius, who obviously did understand people.

That had been an obvious mistake. The fact that Lucius understood how to manipulate everyone around him should have made Severus trust him less rather than more. It was a lesson learned too late.

Severus had already given over his freedom, his future, to a man who treated him little better than his father had.

Potions study was now done only in his spare time, and there was little of that after the hours spent attending to more senior Death Eaters. It was surprisingly boring. And the breaks in the monotony tended to consist of violence toward muggles and mudbloods. Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters seemed to think this made them more powerful. Severus thought it made them animals.

Power was subtle. True power used only a light touch, a gentle fume.

And wore white robes.

Severus shook his head. Where had that last thought come from?

He forced himself to focus on what the Dark Lord was telling him and a group of other minor Death Eaters. Severus wanted to sneer at the others for being idiots and powerless flunkies within the Death Eater ranks, but then again, he was one of them.

They were all being sent to a large muggle estate and were supposed to search it for a particular artifact. The Dark Lord had described their mission five times, the artifact seven times, and was starting another of the countless little diatribes on pureness of blood and eventual leadership of all of Britain.

Severus fazed it out again and thought about white robes.

No one wore all white robes. For one, they weren't sold in the wizarding world. They were extremely bad luck, a sign of doom. All white meant death and betrayal. The loss of everything you knew.

He had dreamed about a man in a white robe. The man had extended one hand and said, "You have a choice." All purebloods had a touch of the sight; it was part of being such an inbred society. Severus didn't have much of the sight but he still kept track of his dreams as all purebloods did. Seeing a man in all white was not a comfortable event.

And he knew he didn't have a choice. He had allowed the Dark Lord to mark him and that was that. No more choices. Just following orders. Just going with a group of other young fools to steal an artifact from a muggle.

He would think about the man in white later.

\------------------

They had barely all apparated into the large white marble building when a muggle found them.

As all the other wizards tried to point their wands at the quickly moving muggle and shout out curses, the muggle said nothing but moved a muggle device in front of him with one hand. The device of black metal made exploding noises and seemed to jerk around a little. The Death Eaters fell with a little black circle on each forehead.

Finally only the muggle and Severus remained standing. The only ones who remained breathing.

The muggle continued to point his device at Severus, but did nothing further. Severus was frozen with his wand half raised as he had been since he first saw the muggle's face. The muggles skin was pale, his bone structure prominent creating places and hollows, and his eyes were green-gold.

Severus remembered to breath eventually and spoke, "you're the man in white."

The muggle continued to watch him, his face giving nothing away. "Why do you say that?"

"I dreamed of you. You said I had a choice."

The muggle nodded and finally lowered the device he had been pointing at Severus. "You do have a choice. Do you know what you want?"

"I don't have any choices!"

"Run away, little wizard. When you know what you want, you may return. Now go."

And Severus had raised his wand, making sure it was never pointed at the strange man and apparated away.

\----------------

Methos sighed.

He had ten dead wizards littering his entranceway. At least they were all on tile, so the blood would be easily cleaned up once he removed the bodies. Well, that would give him something to do while he thought about the eleventh wizard whom he had allowed to escape.

Wizards had power. Enough power that for him to survive when dealing with aggressive wizards, he had to be more aggressive and more immediately deadly than he normally liked. So when the silent alarm had gone off and the surveillance cameras had shown intruders in robes with wands, he had entered the room with his gun already drawn and started sighting for head shots.

But one of them hadn't attacked. That wizard was young and rather gawky and looked at Methos with shock and recognition. That look had bought him time.

And then the wizard had said he recognized Methos from a dream, and in it, Methos had been wearing white.

Methos knew himself to be the oldest living person on Earth as well as a character in many of the worlds religions. He tried to tell himself and others that he was just a guy, but he knew that he was also a symbol. And to a wizard who saw him wearing white in his dreams, it could only symbolize Death or Betrayal. As infamous as Death was, the Beloved Traitor was equally infamous. He had betrayed them, but he was still their brother and they loved him. For that matter, he loved them. He just couldn't be with them. His brothers hadn't understood that and searched for him for millennia after he had left them. Kronos continued to search sporadically even three thousand years later.

The wizards with their black robes and silver skull masks were already trying to be Death-like, but were obviously minions. None of them would have dreamed of him and of a choice if they wanted to be more like Death. And the surviving wizard had seemed angered and despairing over his perceived lack of choice. Thus he had probably dreamed of Methos in his role as Traitor.

Methos finished completely stripping all the dead wizards, sorting their gear into things to wash (clothing), things to add to his various collections (wands, silver masks, and the odd coin), and things to look at more closely (scraps of parchment, various talismans, etc.) He started dragging the bodies to the garage for transportation.

Did he really want to start mentoring a young wizard in the fine art of betrayal? He was a master of that skill after his years as a harbinger of the apocalypse. He was the one who would check out the cities in advance of any attacks. He would befriend the guards and learn all the defenses before returning to this brothers with a plan of attack. He had spent a thousand years making friends and betraying them, and he had topped it off by betraying his very brothers.

He was more than capable of teaching the young man how to follow in his footsteps. But it would not be a pleasant journey for either of them. Given his situation, the young man probably had many true friends. And young men do not make true friends when they are learning how to be false friends. Methos might have gone through friendless stages in his long life, but one thing about being immortal is the knowledge that any situation will eventually end. A mortal had no such reassurance. If he mentored the boy he would create a great traitor, but not necessarily a great human being.

Methos started loading the bed of a truck with the bodies and remembered what he had said tot he young wizard. He had said, "When you know what you want, you may return."

He had already decided to mentor the boy if asked. And he knew enough of human nature to know that the boy would return.

\-------------------

Severus returned to the Dark Lord and informed him of their failure. He said nothing about his conversation with the muggle, or about recognizing the muggle from a dream. Instead, he merely said that he had apparated away after the others were all dead. The Dark Lord was less than pleased and after being Crucio'd, Severus was thrown into an empty room and left there.

He spent the empty hours thinking about what it was he wanted. He wanted power. He wanted fame. He wanted respect. And he wanted to study potions. What he didn't want was to be a flunky for the rest of a very short life. However that seemed like his fate, especially since he was currently locked in a cell.

He came to a decision. If he got out of here, he would go back to the muggle and tell him everything he wanted, even if it was impossible. Maybe the muggle was right and he did have a choice even if he couldn't see it now. Asking didn't seem likely to make his life any more unpleasant or brief.

He dozed for a little bit, and dreamed again. The man in white looked at him and extended his hand. "You have a choice." Severus was just putting his hand into the man in white's when he was woken up by the door of his cell opening.

"You can go."

He left.

It was a few days later that he heard the story about how ten dead naked wizards had been left on the Ministry's door step, at the main entrance into muggle London. Ministry officials had been forced to move quickly to avoid the scandal of the bodies being found by any muggles.

Lord Voldemort was ignoring the situation completely and had crucio'd the only Death Eater to ask about it. Severus was trying to build up his courage to return to the house, as he had decided to do while locked up.

Severus finally had a free day and apparated back to the large white marble house. He half expected to be killed on sight. Instead he was invited to dinner. Before he could think better of it, Severus poured out all his dreams and desires to the impassive muggle. The muggle listened to everything and occasionally pushed him to say more.

Severus paced and ranted and whined and impatiently wiped away the few tears that came, though whether they were from sorrow, despair, or rage, not even he was sure. And eventually he ran out of things to say. He felt completely empty.

Severus flushed with embarrassment when the muggle finally spoke after that and said, "Okay. Dinner should be on the table now." And the muggle gestured for Severus to follow him.

They ate in silence.

When dinner was over, the muggle once more gestured for Severus to follow him, and they went to a library. The room was large but the book shelves that covered the walls were only half full.

"This is my magic library. As you can see, it is far from complete. However, there is enough for me to begin teaching you a mastery of potions. I am not a wizard. However, neither am I purely muggle. You might find it easiest to think of me as a magical creature. I have enough magic innate to me that I am capable of both potion making and arithmantic calculations. I have mastery's in both these subjects, though I'm not up to date in either of them.

"In exchange for teaching you potions, you will bring me catalogues of books published within the last five hundred years. I pick what I want, and you will track down those books and purchase them for me."

Severus flushed but opened his mouth anyway to tell the man that he had no money.

But the man waved him to silence. "I will give you a token that will allow you to pull funds from my Gringotts account. You will use this token to purchase the books for me, and all the ingredients you'll need. Over time, you will also purchase other items. If there is anything you wish to purchase purely for yourself, you may ask me in advance and I may agree to it. I do not enter the wizarding world without a very good reason, so do not expect it."

The muggle, the man, the magical creature, was silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought. "Sir? I, I'm a Death Eater. I can always be summoned by Lord Voldemort. I can't be a proper apprentice."

"I know. You will come to me when you have time. Along with potions, I will teach you how to gain respect and power over those around you, and this will allow you to have more time. Do not expect immediate results. And you may call me Adam."

"Adam. And I'm Severus. Severus Snape."

For the first time the man, Adam, smiled. It was bright and seemed to light up Adam's face and it made him no less of an enigma. "Severus. It had been a long time since I have taken a student, but I think you will do me proud."

Severus was unnerved by the warm feeling this gave him. No one had ever told him they were proud of him. He reminded himself that the man was still dangerous.

He was a magical creature with unknown abilities. He had killed ten Death Eaters without being hit by a single curse. He had two magical masteries. His personal symbol was that of Death and Betrayal. And he was proud to have Severus as an apprentice.

\-------------------

It had been a long time since he had taken a student, Methos thought. He had forgotten how fun it could be to mold someone into a form of one's own imagining.

And Severus was a perfect student. He was brilliant. He wasn't immortal and never would be, so there was no need to worry about teaching the competition. And he was borderline autistic so teaching him to read and manipulate people around him could be done almost completely on the conscious level. Severus would ask rather than assume anything, and he forced Methos to consciously analyze some of his own habits of manipulation.

They would go out people watching in muggle England. At first Methos would give a running commentary on everything taking place. More and more though, he would make Severus tell him what he was seeing. And Severus was seeing more and more as the months passed.

They would make potions in Methos' lab, once more fully stocked. And read and discuss various writings on potions in the rapidly growing wizarding library. He was teaching Severus all the skills of a potions master that weren't necessary for grade-school potions classes. And Severus in turn, was teaching him about modern potions.

He was also teaching Severus knife fighting. Severus hadn't wanted to learn anything so very muggle. Methos had pointed out that one, in a deadly situation it was a skill that would take most wizards by surprise, two, the lessons would teach him to be more comfortable in his body and move with more grace and control, and three, Severus was the student and would learn anything that he was taught. Severus had replied with a sneer, "But of course, Adam, sir. Forgive me."

Methos was pleased.

\-----------

Severus had always sneered at and insulted those around him. Adam could more than match him sneer for sneer and insult for insult. Along with all his other lessons, Adam was also refining those skills: commenting on ways to make a sneer more contemptuous, and an insult more cutting. From the long lectures and conversations with Adam, Severus was also learning a finer control of his temper and how to manipulate a conversation to go where he wanted it to.

He slowly discovered that he was given more respect by the Death Eaters around him, and was holding conversations with more and more important Death Eaters. After such conversations he would go back to the big white marble house and tell Adam everything that he could remember and the two of them would analyze everything that was said or not said for true meanings.

And Adam had been right that he had more free time as the months and then years progressed. He was no longer ordered to attend upon other Death Eaters. Instead he was invited to converse with them. And he would occasionally watch a torture session because he felt the more he learned the better, and if he gave the details to Adam, Adam would in turn tell him exactly what the torturers were doing right or wrong and what other torture methods there were and how to avoid breaking under various techniques and how to break others. It was during those times that Severus remembered how incredibly dangerous his mentor was.

Severus had only been invited to participate once. He had raised a single eyebrow and stated, "I don't feel the need to bath myself in mud as hogs do." The older Death Eater had turned red, cast a single killing curse at the mudblood he had been about to torture to death, and stormed out.

He had power, he had respect, and he had an increasing knowledge of potions. It was when he saw his first published article that Severus finally admitted to himself that he was still dissatisfied. He did not respect the Dark Lord and he did not respect himself. He could hide both of these facts from everyone but himself. And he wasn't sure if Adam knew. When Severus spoke to him about it, Adam did not look surprised. But then, Severus had yet to see Adam surprised by anything.

Adam started teaching him the theory behind hiding information from people who could read his mind. And they started studying the various truth serums and creating vaccines for them. Severus discovered that he already knew from their conversations how to manipulate words to hide his real intentions. And he realized that the tricks in knife fighting could be used to great effect in other situations as well. Hidden knives, distracting with one knife from the other, flashing knives but finally attacking with a foot which isn't considered a weapon but can still be deadly, or simply fighting left-handed to give the appearance of a weaker right hand. These were all tricks that could be changed to be used in other circumstances.

It was from the large white marble house that he sent his owl to Dumbledore requesting a meeting for the first time.

And it was there to the big white marble house that he went when he first heard of the death of the Potters and the destruction of Voldemort. He was furious.

It was like the first time went to talk to Adam all over again. He poured out all his feelings as he paced. He ranted and raved, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. "After everything I've done, they couldn't protect their own! They gave important information to that rat! They had to run away. What happened to proud, courageous, Gryffindor Potter? When did he decide to be scared and run away? They were fighting a war! Wars don't just peter out. They are either won or lost! But no, they all run and scamper away, so when finally a massive blow is struck on Lord Voldemort, there is no one around to give the coupe de grace! A mistake has sent the Dark Lord into exile! And now he's hidden and who knows when he'll be back, but he will be, and we're stuck waiting! That damned coward Potter! And his damned brat of a spawn! Everyone's out there celebrating the great Boy-Who-Lived, did you know that? They're out celebrating the brat who put the Dark Lord into hiding, the brat who made it impossible to finally defeat the Dark Lord. And they're happy. They can postpone the fight a little bit, and wait until it comes back ten times worse! This is like the slow simmer in making a potion. Years will pass, and when their done, the remaining Death Eaters will be a concentration of what they are today." Severus finally sank down into a chair and put his head in his hands. He looked up at his mentor who had been sitting and watching him all this time. "What do I do now?"

"Now? Now you wait. You're right, this isn't over. However, it does give you a chance to live a little. You're twenty-four years old, Severus. You're twenty-four years old and you've been accepted as a potions master by the entire scholarly community. Up to now, you've spent all of your time with the Death Eaters or with me. It's time for you to spend some time with yourself and with your potions. Go out and get a job and concentrate on your potions.

"When I first met you, I was here just to put this house in order before I started another life. I put that life off to teach you, but now we're in a holding pattern. There's nothing to do but watch the world simmer. When the next stage is about to start, you'll know. Until then, I'm going to go start my next life, and you should do the same.

"Good luck, Severus. You make me proud."

And Adam left the room. By the time Severus followed, Adam had completely disappeared to whatever his other life was.

It was ten years before Severus sent an owl addressed to Adam, "The Potter brat is come to Hogwarts. Voldemort attacked him through a follower." He got back a response, "wait for it."

It was another four years before Severus sent an owl saying, "The simmering is over. I have been summoned."


	2. part 2

"Albus! You need to do something about that infuriating man!"

Albus Dumbledore grinned into his beard as he watched his Assistant Headmistress storm towards him. It looked like it was time for her semiannual rant against the Head of Slytherin. "What man is that, my dear?"

Minerva glared at him. "You know perfectly well. I have put up with enough already. I dealt quietly with him having the entire Gryffindor quidditch team test that poetry potion right before a big game. I deal constantly with him giving out detentions to my house, despite all the evidence pointing towards his own. But he simply cannot be allowed to give his students an unidentified poison and assign them to make the antidote themselves. It's dangerous!"

Albus' eyes opened wide at her version of events. In his opinion she had been far from quiet about the first incident and was constantly harping on the various detentions. "There, there. I'm sure he kept the antidote on hand for anyone who failed the assignment."

"Five students reported poison symptoms to me!"

"I'm sure it's just their imagination. They'll be fine, but I suppose you could send them along to Poppy for a check up."

"Albus, why do you let that man get away with murder?"

"What? No one has died."

"Yet. Albus, seriously, why do you let Snape get away with so much? If any other teacher acted as he did, you'd kick them out."

Albus sighed. "I want him to stay." He wondered why felt the need to explain further, but times were tumultuous, and perhaps it would be best to share more. He trusted his instincts on this. "Severus, he makes me happy. I've taken tea with him once a week for fifteen years and he still surprises me. I give him free reign because I don't want him to leave. Of all the things I have ever asked him to do, he's only ever agreed to do one of them for me and that was to be a teacher here."

"Then I'm surprised that you haven't given him the Defense class." Minerva snorted. Then took a closer look at the Headmaster who was looking decidedly shifty. "Why haven't you given him the Defense class?"

"Er. Well, you see. Um. I've tried to. He's refused it. He likes potions better."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "And the rumors that say he's applied for the job every single year for the last decade?"

"Ah. Well, I may have started those rumors to see what he'd do." Albus sighed with resigned humor. "Ever since then, he's picked fights with all the Defense professors. It makes it terribly hard to fill that position, especially since he continues to refuse it himself."

Minerva reached one hand up to massage her temple. She groaned. "Albus, do you like making life difficult? If you can tell him to spy on You-Know-Who, which as far as I knew was a completely impossible task, you can tell him to go easy on everyone around him, which might be improbable, but is at least possible. I know he's your protégée, but really, you need to control him."

She missed his response which was barely vocalized it was so quiet. "I've never told him what to do."

\----------------

Of all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, Severus was the one that he least understood. He had thought that Severus was completely lost to the Dark Lord when he had graduated from Hogwarts still following Lucius Malfoy's lead.

Three years later, when Severus had contacted him and asked for a confidential meeting, he had felt a glimmer of hope. Several times before, Death Eaters had come to him for sanctuary having become disillusioned with Lord Voldemort. But the severely controlled young man who entered his office looked nothing like those broken figures that had come to him in despair. Severus had sat stiffly in the overstuffed armchair facing his desk and had started telling him everything Severus knew about the Death Eaters: names, past events, present actions, and future plans.

Dumbledore tried to ask about the motivations for this emotionless confession, if it could be called that, but those questions had been ignored. He had eventually given up and questioned him about the facts he was being told. While Severus had maintained shields around his thoughts and memories, he had merely sneered at Dumbledore when he had used legilamens to verify his veracity. He had not raised further shields, and had not needed to. Everything Severus said was the truth.

When Severus had finally finished speaking, and Dumbledore had asked his last question, Severus had stood and moved to the door. Before leaving he had turned back and said, "Is there anything in particular, you wish to know further?"

Dumbledore gave him several questions that he had about Voldemort and the dark lord's plans. Severus had nodded and left without further sound, leaving Dumbledore to a rare feeling of not understanding his fellow man.

It couldn't be a trick by Lord Voldemort, because for one, it was just too bizarre a situation, and for two, Dumbledore knew that Severus had spoken the truth about plans that Voldemort would want to remain secret. It couldn't be remorse and suicide by going back to the Dark Lord, because Severus had indicated that he intended to collect more information and deliver that at some later point.

It seemed like Severus was trying to be an active spy. But that was ludicrous. There were no such spies in wizarding wars.

There were one-time betrayals: traitors. There were spy-spells that allowed secret observation. But there weren't spies of the type that muggles had: people in trust who worked for a foreign power. There were too many ways for the truth to be magically discovered. How could Severus Snape, master legilamens and occulmens have not known this? Had he become too sure of his own abilities to deceive that he thought he could do the impossible?

Dumbledore berated himself for not forcing the young man, a boy really, to stay and divulge his motivations and plans. But he tried to avoid forcing anyone, he tried to woo them gently. This time he wished he had done differently. For Severus' sake.

Two months later though, Severus requested another interview, and it was much the same. He had the answers to most of Dumbledore's questions and had educated guesses about the rest. He left again with more of Dumbledore's questions and still without answering any of the more personal queries.

This pattern continued.

Dumbledore watched as Severus rose in the ranks of Death Eaters. He wasn't even taking part in any of the killings. He was nasty and bitter even as a young man but he began to walk with assurance and look at others with visible contempt. The older Death Eaters began to defer to him. He had somehow learned the trick of demanding respect from others with no more than his presence or a few sharp insults. He grew ever more controlled in motion and word.

He started publishing potions papers that earned him the respect of the scholarly community. Rumors surfaced that he was personally apprenticed to Voldemort.

In one of Severus' few human moments he had dropped his mental shields while talking to Dumbledore, just long enough to push a single memory forward.

Severus was kneeling before Lord Voldemort and had been asked about his recent scholarly advances. "I am one of your Death Eaters. How could that not inspire me to be as great as the title and you deserve of a follower?" The flattering words had been spoken in Severus' most cutting tones. He wasn't mocking the Dark Lord. He was apparently disgusted that the question of why had to be asked. The tone said that it should be obvious that he was working towards the greater glory of his lord, and could they get on with the conversation, please.

The expression on Lord Voldemort's face had Dumbledore chuckling.

The Dark Lord had gotten his shock under control and said, "Very well. Accio Potions Journal." A large journal came flying to him. "This contains all my thoughts on potions. Read it. I'll summon you later to discuss it."

The rumors that said that he was Voldemort's personal potions apprentice were made truth after they first surfaced.

\---------------------

"Albus!" Minerva's sharp voice brought him back to the present.

"Yes, my dear? I'm so sorry I drifted off there for a second. I must be getting old."

"Don't you try that dottering old man act on me, you old goat, answer the question."

"I'm so sorry, I don't recall what it was, could you repeat it?"

Minerva looked ready to explode. It was an effect that rather appealed to Albus and he watched it with interest. But she reigned in her ire and said very carefully, "is Snape's desire for the Defense position the only false rumor that you have spread about him?"

"Ah. More or less."

"Albus."

"Well. I may not actually have taught him potions as I am said to have done."

Minerva just looked at him and then settled down in a chair and started rubbing her temples with both hands. Maybe he should get Severus to make her a headache potion?

\----------------------

With the Potters recently dead, and little Harry with his aunt and uncle, Death Eater trials were taking place.

Dumbledore had known that Severus would no more accept his protection from this danger than he had from the danger he was in before. But this was just as serious and so Dumbledore created and spread rumors that it was not the Dark Lord who had mentored the young potions prodigy, but Dumbledore himself. Dumbledore had tea parties with as many important ministry officials as possible and implied that the rumors were true. There was no way he would ever live down the dotty-old-man reputation now, given the complete lack of any real reason for such secret tutoring and such circumspect not-quite admissions to doing the tutoring. However the deed was done and the ministry convinced and he could honestly tell Severus that he had never directly said that he was the mysterious mentor. He rather thought that Severus knew exactly what he was doing though.

In part, Dumbledore asked the twenty-five year old Severus to become the Hogwarts Potions Master to further protect him from ministry harassment. Twenty-five was the minimum age of any Hogwarts professor ensuring that teachers never taught anyone they had gone to school with.

Severus had pointed out that he despised most people and all children. Dumbledore had merely said, "please." Severus had glared but finally acquiesced.

The real reason for the job offer, Dumbledore knew, was that he desperately wanted to understand Severus. This also explained something about his hints that he had mentored the young man. Being his teacher according to public opinion gave him a claim on Severus, even though it was false. Perhaps, as Severus himself pointed out, he merely wanted to add Severus to his collection of magical curiosities.

Dumbledore gave Snape an entire wing of the dungeons as well as a professional potions research lab for his personal and private use. Dumbledore also used his own funds to double the money available for the Hogwarts Potions Master to purchase ingredients with. Severus had told him in one of the reserved mans rare open moments that he "supposed he should have expected Dumbledore's little obsession with him given that he had spent the last five years of his life learning how to draw the attention and the confidences of the most powerful and dangerous wizards around." The tone was sarcastic, but the words were honest.

"Yes. You should be congratulated on such a success then. I am completely enthralled." Dumbledore had answered pleasantly and with more than a touch of humor, but he had also known the potions master to be at least partially correct. Although he didn't think it was entirely a matter of skill on Severus' part. Instead, Severus had molded himself, or perhaps been molded, into the type of enigma that would appeal to anyone who had spent their life studying enigmas as both he and Tom Riddle had.

It was only after all the most significant events that Dumbledore finally got to induct Severus into the Order of the Phoenix. Severus was just as nasty to everyone as he always was. But it pleased Dumbledore none the less to be able to show off such a brilliant and impossible spy.

Three years before, Dumbledore had asked a twenty-two year old Severus to join the Order of the Phoenix. Severus refused, saying he needed "as few people as possible to know about my ... ambiguities."

Dumbledore had choked on his tea at that particular choice of term.

Severus was the only one who was capable of completely disconcerting him.

\---------------

When Voldemort returned the Order of the Phoenix was fully reconvened and for the first time Severus was present at such a meeting during war time. As much as it pleased him to have Severus there, Dumbledore also wasn't sure what to do about it. As he gave all the other members their orders, he contemplated how to treat his potions master. At the end, after telling everyone else where they were to go and what they were to do, he merely looked at his Potions Master. "You know what you have to do."

Dumbledore was little closer to understanding the man now than he had nearly twenty years before. When it came to Severus, the only thing he could say was, "do as you will." For all that Severus had spied for him before, he had never been in command of Severus, and doubted he ever would be.

But Severus blanched and for the first time Dumbledore saw evidence that Severus was scared of spying. It also told him that Severus was determined and would return to achieving the impossible by spying in a wizards war.

And perhaps it was the fact of this impossibility that made him trust Severus more than any of the others. They were under his command and he had to know their strengths, but also their weaknesses. Severus was a mystery to him, and in this way, more dependable. He had never known Severus to fail in any important work.

So many people looked up to the Great Albus Dumbledore as the person capable of anything that it was reassuring to have somebody that he could depend on, just a little bit, in turn. Severus could achieve the impossible and he would do it all with a sneer firmly in place on his face.

Thus it was, that when Severus didn't return from a weekend summons in the fall of Harry Potters seventh year, he was devastated. There were no rescue plans.


	3. part 3

Methos tried to tell himself that he was not worried. Severus was not his student, was not his concern, and was not in danger anyway. Severus was late. There were never set times for the two of them to meet, but Severus generally stopped by every couple of weekends, and Methos had been fairly sure that this weekend, would be one of those. And Severus had not come.

"Not my student, not my concern, not in danger anyway."

He sighed. He knew perfectly well, that while Severus was not immortal and never would be, bar some rather powerful dark magics, he was his student in every way that counted. And that meant that Severus was very much his concern. And Severus was spying on a dark wizard which also meant he was in constant danger.

And Methos had long ago honed his instincts to let him know when to worry, and they were telling him that now was the time.

He paced. He told himself to relax and read a book, but couldn't concentrate.

Finally he spoke to the still absent Severus. "Damn it, man. You had better be in danger right now, because I'm going into that damned wizarding world to fetch you."

He was still muttering to himself as he went to one of the back storage rooms. There happened to be in his possession ten Death Eater outfits in various sizes that he had removed from the original Death Eaters. It helped to be prepared for all eventualities and never throw things away.

\-----------------

Harry Potter was worried. Snape had disappeared this weekend, and his Monday classes had been canceled. Dumbledore was looking serious, and he had even seen the Headmaster nibble on some medi-chocolate. Something was very wrong.

And so he had come up with a plan. It was, he admitted to himself, not a very good plan. No one had told him anything and neither Hermione nor Ron could come up with any suggestions to find out what was going on. So he had decided to lower his mental barriers and see if he could figure out what Voldemort was up to.

It wasn't really working.

But he went to sleep with the barriers down, and then he dreamed.

He found himself hissing the question, "Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me?" The man wore Death Eater robes and held a silver mask in his hand. He smirked and tossed the mask in front of him. "You once sent eleven of your people to steal from me. I returned ten of them, but I kept the eleventh for my own. Where is he?"

"Ah. So it is you who turned him from me." Voldemort's eyes blazed with anger, but he kept completely still and his voice remained a quiet hiss. "Lucius. Bring the traitor here."

The surrounding Death Eaters shifted a bit at this command but awaited a signal to act. Everyone waited in stillness, only Lucius moving as he left the room.

Snape was finally dragged in. He looked much the worse for wear due to his incarceration. But his face remained blank, devoid of all emotion, until his saw the man. Then his face showed a terrible mixture of hope and despair.

"And how will my little traitor react to seeing his mentor die, do you think?"

The man laughed. It was a loud rolling laugh that filled the room and mocked all those present. "And how do you plan to do that? It would take nearly fifty of your little killing curses to bring me down."

Harry Potter felt Voldemort's sudden surge of triumph. This time it was Voldemort's laughter that filled the room. "Then so it shall be. Kill him, my Death Eaters."

More than fifty voices shouted out "Avada Kedavra"

The man fell dead, his body covering Snape.

Harry murmured in his sleep. He twisted around and almost woke, but clung to the vague connection he felt, trying to see what happened next.

It was deadly silent in Voldemort's hall, despite the many Death Eaters. Some seemed to be holding their breath. Many of the Death Eaters had not lowered their wands and the rest brought theirs back up again. There was a tension and a power that rose within the room until it was at a near painful peak and it was hard to breath.

Then the entire room seemed to explode with pure power.

Every Death Eater wand, every wand that had cast that last killing curse, shattered. Fire came from nowhere and laced the walls. The windows exploded inwards, showering everyone with shards of glass. Lightening came from the air itself and headed straight for the dead body that lay over Snape.

The Death Eaters that were caught in the lightning's path towards the body were struck down and left for dead as the lightening continued on.

Pandemonium ensued.

And Harry Potter shivered in his bed with Lord Voldemort's fear. The dark lord fled his throne room and as he ran he was followed by a deep rolling laugh that mocked him.

\---------------

All the students were in their houses and under close guard.

It was a full moon and Remus had come to Hogwarts for his wolfbane potion. But since Severus had failed to return, no one was capable of making the potion. With Peter Pettigrew alive and with Lord Voldemort, the Shrieking Shack held no safety or anonymity. Albus had come to the difficult decision to allow Remus to run free in the Forbidden Forest and guard the children within the castle rather than risk keeping an out-of-control changed werewolf in the castle as well.

It was a decision he feared he would regret and that fear seemed confirmed when the scream was heard. It was a scream of rage and perhaps an attempt at intimidation. But it was answered by the howl of a werewolf accepting the implied challenge.

One doesn't intimidate a changed werewolf.

Albus rushed out with Minerva and met up with Hagrid and Fang part way to the source of the continued noises.

In one way, Albus Dumbledore was right in believing he came too late. The werewolf was attempting to maul a person, a man, and the man was already bleeding from claw marks. He was infected. On the other hand, the man appeared to be winning the fight. He had two long knives, one in each hand and was using them to attack as well as defend. The man was also, Albus realized, protecting something. There was a pile of something on the ground that the man consistently kept on the far side of himself from the werewolf.

Albus just had time to notice this when the man darted in at the attacking werewolf again and kicking it to one side with a swept leg and hitting its head with the pommel of his knife on the other side. The werewolf practically did a cartwheel. Before it could get up the man was kneeling on it and holding a knife to its throat.

Albus wanted to protect Remus Lupin, but he couldn't deny that the man had the right to kill a changed werewolf who had attacked him. There was nothing he could do.

But instead of slitting the werewolf's throat, the man simply kept the knife there and snarled directly into the werewolf's face.

Albus then saw something he had never seen before, that he had not previously thought possible. The werewolf lay quiet and raised its own chin, baring its throat further. It was showing its submission and accepting the man as dominant.

The man stood up and put his knives away somewhere inside his black robes. The werewolf rose as well but just stood there on all fours at the mans side.

They both looked at the shocked faces of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, and Fang.

"Well? I'm covered in werewolf blood and spit and Severus has open wounds. One of you is going to have to carry him."

\----------------------

Dumbledore was sitting by his bedside when Severus finally woke up. The old man was a comforting presence, but was barely acknowledged by the recipient of his care. Instead the generally dour man stared at him with a look of wonder and said, "he came for me."

"He did, didn't he? I didn't dream it? Death and Betrayal saved me."

Dumbledore listened to these soft words intently wondering if he would ever find out what they meant, but he replied, "Your friend Adam brought you here."

Severus laughed softly. "Adam. Here. 'Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying.' Rainer Maria Rilke." And the man drifted off to sleep again with a rare smile on his lips.

Dumbledore was left with his thoughts.

He thought about how glad he was that his potions master had been returned and showed good progress in healing. He thought about the strange man called Adam who had brought Severus back to Hogwarts. Adam who had refused all medical attention, waved off all concerns of infection, and had left Hogwarts after reassuring himself that Poppy was a competent medi-witch and could heal Severus. But mostly he thought about Severus and what he now knew about the enigmatic man.

Albus was fairly sure that Adam was Severus' mentor, probably in potions as well as in betrayal. Someone had taken Severus in hand when he was a just a boy, broken in so many ways, and had helped form him into the man he was today. Severus was now a powerful wizard and scholar, and his bitterness was honed to a sharp edge that made him all the more powerful and dangerous rather than soothed and dulled to make him happier. What had given Adam the power to do that? Severus had been distrustful as a boy and he was distrustful as a man, but he had still allowed Adam inside his emotional barriers.

Albus made a mental list of everyone Severus had ever had any reason to trust. His father had beaten his mother and him, and of the two of them, he had been stronger than his mother. He had been the protector and had known that he could not trust his mother to protect him any more than he could expect it of his father no matter what popular culture said about the roles of parents and children.

He, Albus Dumbledore, had been Severus' school headmaster, and had tried to engender trust in the boy. But then, he had betrayed Severus himself when he had failed to properly punish Sirius Black or Remus Lupin for placing Severus in mortal danger for a prank. He had played favorites despite his attempts to be fair.

Lucius Malfoy had been a friend but had also betrayed Severus by convincing him to join the Death Eaters with false promises. And Lord Voldemort had betrayed Severus by failing to fulfill the promises made in his name.

Severus didn't trust anyone, so why did he trust Adam, a man he was obviously surprised to have come to his rescue?

Albus closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the sleeping Severus' hand as he realized why Adam was different. Severus had just told him in that quote about terrifying angels, and in his very surprise at his rescue.

Albus would bet anything and everything he had that Adam had never promised to rescue Severus; had never even implied that he might do so if the need arose. Adam had helped Severus, had taught him and had formed him into someone who walked into danger with complete confidence that either he would survive or he would not and the only thing to do was to face it, to stand in the heat of danger and see if he would be burned.

Adam was a being who could be cursed with fifty killing curses and would still survive. He was a being who could fight a werewolf and force its complete submission. And he was a being that Severus could trust to never break a promise because he never offered any promises. Truly a terrifying angel, but perhaps the only kind of angel that Severus could believe in.

With this new insight into the man laying in the infirmary bed, Albus felt he knew him even less. "How can you be who you are and still fight for us? How can you live with such an expectation of betrayal? How can you trust above all others a man you refer to as Death and Betrayal?"

The sleeping man, who was, Albus realized with some surprise, still not yet forty, continued to sleep and did not answer.

\---------------------

Miles away, back at his British estate, Methos was considering events. He had gone to rescue Severus and had succeeded in that. Showing up at a Death Eater hangout in Death Eater garb had quickly gotten him taken to Voldemort. And being cursed with Avada Kedavra was not particularly pleasant, but then again, few deaths were, and it wasn't permanent. Under controlled circumstances at least. It had merely removed his quickening from his body and given that he still had a body and a head that were solidly connected, his quickening had returned to him. He had always wondered what would happen if there were a second immortal around when one immortal was Avada Kedavra'd. Who would get the quickening? But any quickening was violent and when a wizard took it, the wand involved invariably exploded. The knowledge did reassure him whenever he was in the wizarding world.

He didn't really like the wizarding world. He liked the books, and he liked the subjects studied. He had been married a few times to witches and had raised children who turned out to be magical, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't like spending much time surrounded by people who were all capable of things he was not. Many spells didn't affect him at all, and many more didn't act like they normally did, but spells that effected his surroundings rather than him could still be extremely problematic.

Methos hadn't been inside a wizarding enclave for centuries before now. Now that he had returned, he had a feeling that he would have to return again and soon.

Nearly twenty years ago Voldemort had first had contact with him, trying to steal from one of his collections. Methos had killed most of the potential thieves, and that had been that. There had been no further interaction. Voldemort had not tried again, and Methos had made no attempt at revenge.

But this time Methos had been the aggressor. He had personally gone to Lord Voldemort and had killed more than one of his minions and crippled most of them at least temporarily until they could replace their wands. And he had successfully taken a prisoner away from him. When Severus remained at Hogwarts as he almost certainly would, Voldemort would have to assume, correctly, that Methos remained interested in events. The war would have to end soon and decisively if Voldemort wanted to avoid Methos becoming further involved in the situation.

Given what Severus had told him in the past few years, and this year being Harry Potters seventh, the final battle had probably already been planned for the next few months, but if it hadn't been before, it surely was now.

There was a war, and it was going to come to a head within six months. He didn't like fighting in any wars, and he didn't like being in the wizarding world even when it was at peace. But he had left his student in the thick of the fight and that could not be changed now.

So the big question was: should he participate?


	4. part 4

Kingsley had betrayed him. Severus was furious. He had lasted four years as a spy the first time and then another two years after the dark lords resurrection, only to be betrayed by one of the members of Albus' precious order. He knew he should have remained firm and refused to have his cover broken in any way, even after the war seemed over fifteen years ago. But he had wanted ... friends. Or perhaps not friends, but companions, compatriots, other people to interact with without having to constantly pretend to be someone other than himself. And that desire had cost him his position among the Death Eaters and had almost cost him his life.

Admittedly, Kingsley had not betrayed him willingly. The Auror had been tortured and the dark lord had used legilamens on him before killing him. None the less, Kingsley had held a secret that was dangerous to Severus and had given that secret to Severus' enemy. Willing or not, it was still betrayal. It was one more confirmation that no one was to be trusted. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been nice but in the end, not trustworthy.

Severus was a spy. He had hidden what he was doing for so very long. Nearly two decades from a man who could read his mind. And it was because he was very much not a nice man. It was too easy to think nice is equivalent to noble and that nasty or bitter or angry is equivalent to evil. Gryffindors always seem to think that way, Severus thought with a snort. Although members of his own house seemed to have the same prejudices. Slytherins tended to think that anyone with a noble cause must necessarily be naive, gullible, and generally stupid. Severus was none of these things.

Severus truly hated Harry Potter and all of the Marauders, both living and dead. He knew himself to be truly bitter about his fate and the way in which the world works. And he was not resigned to let it go on as it is, as so many wizards are who allow the war to be waged without them. He wanted to act and change things. And those are the feelings that Voldemort perceives when he looks at Severus. But woven through these feelings is also a purpose, a goal, that Severus hesitates to call noble, but the word does fit. Goals are much more difficult to read than emotions. Even harder to read than memories or surface thoughts. Being a spy meant that Severus had to rigorously control his thoughts, his very personality. He had to carefully balance his hatreds and his intentions, and he had to be careful to never, ever lie. Lies could give him away. Lies would get him caught. But the truth could be just as misleading, just as confusing, and the truth could be his camouflage.

Even if Voldemort could read Severus' purpose, chances are he would believe Severus was still loyal. His goal was to become powerful, to be acknowledged as great and to have those lesser than himself proven so in the eyes of society, but also to create a world in which those like him are allowed a way to greatness and not held back by the lesser masses.

It is only in his definition of "lesser than him" and "like him" that he differs from Voldemort. Those like him are the smart, the driven, the ones who feel the needed to succeed. They should be allowed a chance at success, no matter their family or their bloodlines or their finances. And those lesser than him are the weak-willed, the idiotic, the unmotivated. Those like James and Harry Potter who each had or have power and intelligence but seem to lack all motivation. Wizards and witches who are easily fooled into being followers. Those like Peter Pettigrew and the Lestranges who couldn't even see what they were become. Their failures should be obvious to all rather than have them elevated to artificial greatness by either hanging onto the coattails of a powerful slave master or being celebrated for a mere matter of birth that they had no control over.

In Severus view, people were either powerful or weak, and in the end, Kingsley Shacklebolt had proven weak. Even after torture and the use of legilamens, Severus had not broken as the Auror had. Voldemort had proof of Severus' betrayal, of his working with the Order of the Phoenix, but he never did find any disloyalty within Severus' mind.

Severus smirked. His discovery as a traitor to the Dark Lord had done just as much harm to the Death Eaters as his spying had. The Dark Lord would never again trust any of his followers. He had always depended upon legilamens to test his followers. Some were more loyal than others but the Dark Lord always had a sense of where they stood on the continuum and acted accordingly. But Severus had destroyed his faith in this knowledge. Even under torture, Severus had never broken down and confessed in either word or thought.

The dark lord had circumstantial evidence of his long term betrayal of the cause, and Adam had added confirmation by his rescue, but there had never been a confession. He had single-handedly changed the way wizarding wars would be fought from now on. From now until the end of eternity, all wizarding leaders would have to be wary of spies amongst their followers. It was a new weapon that Severus had created and it was not a poison or a potion of any sort. It was a weapon of terror against any leader, the knowledge that they might trust someone long past the time of their betrayal.

Severus wondered how many of the Death Eaters understood what had happened. How many of them understood that they now stood in more danger from their lord than they did from the Aurors. The Aurors wanted their capture, but the Dark Lord would now be paranoid and suspicious of every one of his followers. The smart ones would run.

The idiots would stay and try to prove their loyalty in elaborate plans of attack. And when those plans failed as they invariably would, anyone capable of planning a successful attack would have realized their danger and run away, Lord Voldemort would see their failure as further proof of their disloyalty.

He knew, and he was sure the dark lord knew, that the final battle would have to be soon. If the dark lord waited for too long he would be sadly lacking in followers, having scared them all away or perhaps killed them.

The Order of the Phoenix was convened at Grimauld Place to discuss events. Severus was still furious, but the rest of the members were all mournful and regretful over poor Kingsley's fate. Severus wanted to yell at them all, rant about how Kingsley had failed. Instead he pulled out his wand and contemplated it.

He ignored Mad-Eye Moody who had pulled out his own wand in response and was staring at him, suspiciously as always.

The wand looked just like the one that he had first gotten at age ten. There were maybe three people alive in the world who knew that it was not. The number depended on whether Ollivander had ever happened to see it. Ollivander had a trick of being able to recognize any wand he had ever made and he would have noticed the fact that this wand was not his, no matter how similar the appearance.

He had been caught as a spy before this. Only once before.

It had been in the second year of actively spying, that Severus had first been caught out. He had felt adventurous and immortal and had snuck into the old Nott Manor and was going through the papers in the study. The elder Nott was one of Voldemort's top strategists and he had said something earlier that week that had roused Severus' curiosity but was annoyingly silent about the topic after that. Severus had decided to see what he could discover one night when Nott and another Death Eater strategist were in a meeting with the Dark Lord. The meeting hadn't lasted as long as he had expected and they had surprised him, still in Nott's study.

He had taken some rather severe wounds from various curses and had only managed to disable one of them when Nott had gotten his wand away from him. Nott's face had been white with rage as he slowly enumerated all the things that would be done to Severus for his betrayal. He had started out the list by snapping Severus' wand. He had punctuated the rest of the list with various curses and hexes.

Severus had burned with more than the fire that ate at his skin. Inside he was also determined to get out of this. If he could just make it back to Adam, everything would be all right. Adam was almost obsessive in his knowledge and study of healing potions. He just needed to hold on, remain conscious and await his chance.

Finally it had come. Nott had approached too closely and Severus had brought out one of the knives that Adam had insisted on teaching him the use of. Wizards almost never expected a physical attack and Nott appeared to not even notice what had happened before he collapsed. Severus had dispatched the other wizard while he was still unconscious from their previous scuffle.

With the last of his strength he had used Nott's wand to create a portkey to Adam's manor. It was more effort than apparating but less chance of splinching. He didn't remember arriving.

When he next woke up, he was better. He had all of his skin, and all of his teeth, as ugly as ever, and he didn't see any bruises. There were bottles of various potions lined up on the bedside table. Several of them were empty and none of them contained what they had when he had last seen them in the supply cabinet. He carefully eyed them all to see what exactly Adam had given him and in what doses.

He winced as the analyses let him know exactly how bad his state had been when he had first arrived. Most people never had to use quite that much of most of the individual potions and he thought it was rare for anyone to survive a situation that required some of these combinations.

None the less, he felt relatively good. The only thing lacking from his bedside table was a wand.

He wondered what he would say to Ollivander when he went to replace it. Ollivander was not kind to those who broke their wands. And wands were not exactly inexpensive items. And he would have to get to Ollivander's, walking through Diagon Alley without a wand. None of these were pleasant ideas and he decided that for the time being he would consider himself to be still recovering and in need of further mental rest and therefore postpone thinking about the situation. Adam didn't like him using his wand around this place anyway.

He put on the muggle robe and slippers that were set out at the foot of his bed and went off in search of his mentor.

It was after something of a search that Severus finally found him in a small workspace between several of the large laboratories that they generally worked in. He had a piece of wand-shaped wood, probably ebony, that he was carefully drilling a hole into down the length. It looked like the wood base for his old, now broken, wand.

"Adam?"

"Ah, Severus. How are you feeling?" Adam turned his face to be more or less pointed at Severus though he kept his eyes focused on his work.

"Much better. Thank you."

"Good. Look at the table beside you. I've put my collection of wands there. Take them individually and test them out in the hallway. Be careful not to point them at anything fragile."

"You have a collection of wands?"

"As you see."

Severus coughed with impatience and noticed that Adams eyes crinkled in amusement. "Why do you have a collection of wands? How do yo have a collection of wands? Did you make them all?"

Adam finally laughed and looked up, putting his little hand drill aside. "No. Most of them I've simply kept from the various wizards that I've killed."

Severus was silent at that.

"Go try them out. If none of them work, I'm making another one here."

As Severus went into and out of the room with the various wands he tried not to think of the previous owners. Nott and his companion were the only two men he had ever killed. While he didn't feel guilty precisely, he did regret it. He knew he was emotionally fragile at the moment because of it and he watched himself carefully for fear of breaking down. And it was unnerving to have his mentor mention killing so casually. And it was a large collection of wands. He wondered whether he had the personal strength to ask about the previous owner if one of these wands chose him. He rather thought that Adam would answer the question if he had the courage to ask it. Adam would probably describe the wizard just as dispassionately as he had mentioned their deaths and just as insightfully as he could describe any other person Severus asked about. He would be forced to think of the previous owner as a real person rather than a more shadowy figure. Nott was a real person to whom he had talked and whose son had been a classmate. His companion was someone that Severus only vaguely recognized in passing. It was easier to deal with the second killing than the first.

Over all he was rather glad that none of the wands were perfect. A few of them worked well enough to make do with should Adam's creation not work either. They would work well enough to get him to Ollivander's at least. He kept those separate from the rest.

Between wand trials he had watched Adam work on the new wand and had seen Adam cut himself and bleed into the wand, allowing the blood to soak into the unpolished wood of the core in the hole that was drilled there.

When Severus had finished trying out all the wands Adam had left on the table, he came sat on the table with them and watched Adam finish with the wand he was making.

"Human blood can't be used as a wand core."

"Severus, who do you think I am?"

"It is not something I have thought much on."

"You? Not curious?"

Severus flushed. "I have tried not to infringe on your privacy."

"But if you had to guess?"

"I have sometimes wondered. And now that I know you can't be human. Your eyes. And your vast hoard of stuff, the incredibly rare and precious mixed in with the complete trash. There have always been rumors of some dragons capable of becoming animagi. Human animagi. And you have power, magic, but you are not a wizard."

Adam seemed positively delighted with this analysis. "No. I am not a dragon." The laughter left his eyes and voice as he continued. "Voldemort knows who I am. Or at least he has a good guess. He sent eleven minions to steal from me. Eleven replaceable minions. And while he was upset at the failure, he tried nothing further. With a war going against the wizarding world, he could not afford a war against me. Who am I that I can warn him off like that?"

"I don't know."

"Who am I that you first saw me in robes of white?"

"A killer and a betrayer. A teacher and a guide."

Adam just looked at him.

"A teacher and a guide." Severus said firmly. "And a killer and a betrayer." He was silent for a moment and then looked at Adam something like horror and something like awe. "Not a killer or a betrayer. The killer and the betrayer. You really are Death and you really are the Beloved Traitor, aren't you."

"Yes."

"The scholars who believe that the Betrayal of Death was an actual event believe it happened over three millennium ago. Another faction of scholars believe that it is merely a metaphor for the development of modern wizardry and the spells to prevent wizards from dying due to famine, pestilence, or muggle war."

"Yes."

Severus couldn't think of anything further to say. He knew he should be terrified of his mentor, but then, he had known that even before this revelation. After a moment Adam looked back to the wand he was working on.

Severus silently watched Adam finish the wand. When he tried it out, it fit him perfectly.

Whenever he contemplated his wand, he thought about how it's core contained the blood of Death and Betrayal. Sometimes he tried to think about how it was made by Death and Betrayal. But it just didn't stay in his head like that. His wand was made by Adam. Adam, his mentor. Adam, who was Death and Betrayal and whose blood resided in his wand. Severus shook his head.

He had never understood why Adam had first decided to mentor him, but apparently the decision was a true one. Or perhaps even his blood was capable of betrayal. Even before he had changed wands, he hadn't really liked charms or transfiguration. After having been chosen by this new wand, he was even more wary of "foolish wand waving." A wand and the magic it allowed was not something that should be taken for granted.

This knowledge had made him an ever better spy as it made him aware of things that most purebloods never noticed and to which even mudbloods became accustomed.

Severus wondered how many of these implications Adam intended with his various revelations. For all of Albus' act of omniscience, he was nicely blunt in comparison to Adam at times.

The conversation around the table had apparently changed while he was contemplating his wand. It had turned to Adam, the man that only the Hogwarts contingent and Lupin had met, but of whom all of them were now aware. He had to prompt Albus to repeat the question he had asked before. It was, as usual, an odd question to start off.

"All those books you've placed orders for over the years, they've been for Adam, right?" Severus knew he should have expected Albus to have contacts with all the good book stores and be aware of his odder orders. Though most of those had taken place during the previous war. They would have looked even odder then, since he had no money to spend and was still purchasing large quantities of books using an unknown Gringotts account. He wondered why Albus had never asked him before.

"Yes. His library was woefully out of date when I first met him."

"Why would anyone want ten copies of the Monster Book of Monsters?"

Severus knew he didn't manage to suppress the wince that this question brought. "Adam thought it would be amusing to have a, er, pack, of trained attack books guarding his library. I had to get them young and right off the press for him to train. They are quite effective."

Most of the other members at the table winced at this thought. Madam Pince however looked rather thoughtful, which should probably worry Albus.

After this he was bombarded with questions that he answered briefly. Yes, Adam had been his potions master as well as his mentor in spying. Yes, Adam had always struck him as being a powerful being, but he had never actually seen him perform any type of magic other than potions brewing. No, he had no idea what kind of spell had allowed Adam to survive the death curse or create the violent response that the Potter boy had seen in his dreams.

It was more or less accurate. Severus was careful to stick to the truth. He didn't know of any spell that would have those results. However, he didn't mention that he had a pretty good idea that it wasn't a spell at all but merely an aspect of the sort of creature that Adam was. None of the people asking him questions thought to ask him whether or not Adam was human and he didn't tell them.

Eventually the questions tapered off and the others started discussing their opinions and beliefs about how useful Adam would be in the coming battle. Severus knew that he would have to let them know that there was very little chance of Adam participating and even less of a chance of him doing so in any way that they directed. However it didn't matter if they discussed it now and wore each other out. Then when he did tell them, they might be less inclined to argue with him.

He settled back silently to watch them all discuss the impossible and to await his cue to burst all of their dreams.

Severus smirked.

Remus Lupin had, deep in his heart, thought that he was better than his friends. He was a werewolf and extremely violent on the nights of the full moon, but he wasn't malicious in the way that Sirius sometimes had been. He had never picked on Snape in the way James had. He had even tried to stop the other Marauders from taunting Snape.

It was only now that he realized how great it had made him feel to have someone that he, a werewolf, could look down on, for whom he could feel pity. He hadn't spoken up very loudly to stop the others from picking on Snape. It had felt too good for there to be someone who was treated worse than he. He might be a werewolf and derided for that, but people liked and respected him when they knew him and maybe he didn't have a job, but when he did, he was liked and respected by his students and colleagues alike. Unlike Snape.

Now he felt small and dirty and nasty, because it was only now that he realized this about himself. For the first time he realized how comforting that feeling of superiority had been because suddenly it was absent.

For the first time in either of their lives, Snape had something that Remus wanted. He had the attention of Adam.

Adam had fought Remus in his wolf form. Adam had claimed prime alpha status and had forced Remus to accept it. And now that Remus had accepted it, Adam had gone away again leaving Remus without his alpha. For a few short hours, Remus had been a member of a pack, not just of equals or of non-prey types as his school friends had been, but a pack that had a leader, another to take care of him. A pack of two, but a pack none the less. And now he was alone again.

In this meeting there was a chance of getting his alpha back. He truly believed that, given what information they had, Adam could be a great ally in the coming battle, but in the end, he wanted Adam back for personal reasons. He needed to let the others know that while he desperately wanted the man back he was not unbiased.

"We need him. I, I need him." Remus felt ashamed, but still admitted that he longed for the presence of the man who had controlled him when he was in wolf form; who had given him the control that he couldn't give to himself.

"No!" Severus response was sudden and violent and brought all of their attention to him. He continued in a softer voice but it was still intent and his eyes bored into those he looked at. "No, we do not need him. You will not need him. You, we, whoever, may want him, may like him, may desire him, may find him useful, any of those things. But you will not need him. The instant you need him, he will turn on you. If you are lucky, he will simply disappear and you will never see him again. If you try to constrain him, to demand of him what you feel you need, he will destroy you before disappearing. Don't. Just don't. Don't need him." Severus laughed and it was not a pleasant sound. "His brothers once needed him."

"His brothers?" Albus asked, but Severus waved off the question.

"Surely if he knew that we needed him to help us ... ?" Remus asked.

Severus snorted. "If you try to use guilt as a tool, he will laugh in your face."

Minerva spoke up. "I barely met the man, but there are certain creatures that you cannot control. Most cats refuse to be controlled. Instead you have to ask them and convince them of their desire to do some activity."

Dumbledore took this as his cue to speak up. "What do you suggest we do, Severus?"

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think we should make our plans without any thought of having Adam's help. However he is a powerful person and he had demonstrated his willingness to act under certain circumstances. So I suggest that you, Albus, write him a letter letting him know of all your plans and providing him with a portkey to Hogwarts. Ask nothing of him, but let him know that he is welcome to participate should he wish. Make no assumptions and try no manipulations."

"You want us to send all of our plans to some stranger?" Mad-Eye Moody was sure his suspicions of Snape were now confirmed. "You traitor!"

Snape looked down his long nose at the other man and sneered. "Of course, I'm a traitor, you schizophrenic idiot. Have you not noticed me betraying the dark lord for the past twenty years? Or perhaps your constant vigilance failed to notice my recent torture because an Auror gave me away?"

"Maybe it wasn't you who was betrayed. Eh, how did Voldemort get his hands on Kingsley? Maybe Voldemort has convinced you to go back to him and you want to hand deliver all of our plans to him."

Severus turned red with anger and Albus decided to intervene. "Moody, that's enough. Kingsley tried to take on too many Death Eaters on his own and was caught. It's a risk all Aurors take and it doesn't mean there was a betrayal. You know that. And I trust Severus implicitly. However, I do want to know why Severus has suggested what he has. I don't mean to doubt you or anyone you trust, however, isn't there a chance that Adam might betray us?"

"Yes." Severus looked unconcerned. "That has always been a concern. However, I don't believe that he will. More importantly, I think if he were to decide that he strongly supported one side over the other, the side of his choice would win. At the moment, he doesn't have a strong opinion. If we try to force him to make a decision he will most likely act against us. However, we can invite him to help us, as a friend, and I believe if it is done simply and openly we will not be harmed and we will possibly be helped."

"Why not ask him, and then give him the information if he agrees?"

"Do you remember the meeting we had right after the dark lord had been resurrected? What you said to me at that meeting?"

Dumbledore remembered his own thoughts when Voldemort was newly resurrected and he was giving orders to all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix with the sole exception of Severus. In the end, he had known that he could not order Severus to do anything. Apparently that was a trait Severus had acquired from his mentor. "Very well. I will do as you suggest. Would you like to take the letter to him, or should I owl him, or perhaps stop by myself?"

"Owl it. It should come from you, and Adam does not react well to sudden visits by wizards."


	5. part 5

Methos scanned the letter while stroking the owl that had delivered it. Alternately he ruffled and soothed its feathers. It seemed to appreciate the attention. He rather thought it was a public access owl and they didn't get the same sort of personal attention that privately owned owls did.

He stuck the letter in his pocket and carried the owl, perched on his forearm, to the kitchen to get them both something to eat. He had a great deal to think about.

Severus had graduated. Methos rather thought that Severus hadn't even noticed the transition, but it was there. There was always a pang of loss when a student first became their adult selves, and were no longer students. The boy who had once been his student had been a spy, had spied for two decades and had not failed. Instead, he had come out the other side, surviving his betrayal and smoothly transitioning into a more public role in this war. And Methos did not take public roles, especially not in wars. Not anymore, at least.

And like that, so easily, Adam watched his student head on for other, if not greater, challenges.

Severus would always have a place in Methos' life as an ex-student, and Methos would help him, but it would be done in his own way. For the time being though, he had some battle plans to analyze and he had a portkey to keep on hand. Then, of course, there were his own plans to develop. No matter what he wrote back, he still had a means to get to the battle without any further assistance.

Methos smiled. It would be sort of pleasant to get back into the role of battle strategist. It was a role he was extremely good at.

\-----------------

The letter that Albus had sent to Adam was returned three days later. It was covered in red ink comments.

Albus was completely taken aback and Severus had snickered until Albus had joined in the amusement with his own laughter. Their laughter had egged each other on until there were tears running down Albus' face from laughing so hard and Severus' cheek muscles hurt.

Mad-Eye Moody had insisted on taking part in the discussion on whatever Adam sent back and Ronald Weasley was there because he was showing a great deal of potential for planning and strategy. Their expressions made Severus laugh even harder. Moody looked like he wanted to check the letter for a laughing potion and Ron just looked completely gobsmacked.

Eventually Severus and Albus both calmed down and the group read over the comments. They showed a deep understanding of strategy and raised several issues they had not thought of before. Real battles in wizarding wars were so rare that neither of them really knew what they were doing in planning this. Adam seemed willing to tutor them, at least from a distance.

Neither mentioned it, but both were disappointed that Adam had not accompanied his comments and come back to Hogwarts.

\----------------------

Alone in his chambers, Severus thought about his enigmatic mentor.

He'd finished grading the most recent batch of his students' papers and there wasn't an Order Meeting scheduled for another week. Yesterday, he, Albus, Moody, and Weasley, had composed yet another letter to send to Adam. According to the pattern, Adam wouldn't respond for at least three days.

Severus poured himself a glass or port and settled down in an armchair by the fire. He wanted Adam to come to Hogwarts. He wanted to talk to him while they sat together drinking port in front of the fire in his chambers. It was a desire that sometimes seemed to constrict something inside of him.

When Adam had left him, after the first fall of Voldemort, he had been scared by the absence of his mentor to help him reason out what was happening, but he was also relieved at the absence of the man who still scared him at times.

Several times at Death Eater meetings, when he was scared, he had bolstered his courage with the thought that he routinely had dinner with a man who was infinitely more terrifying than any wizard, no matter how dark.

But Adam had always been available. When he had owled Adam after Harry Potters first year, he had gotten a response. And when he had owled Adam after Harry Potters fourth year, Adam had invited him to dine back to the large white manor, where they had first met. But what would happen after Voldemort's second, and hopefully more final, fall? Would Adam disappear again, and this time, there would be no reason for any owls?

Adam no longer reassured him about the worlds basic rationality, as he once had. But then, neither did he still terrify him with his past and his secrets. He saw Adam every few weeks. They dined together and talked about war and potions and students and life. But it was always at the big white manor and never in the wizarding world. It was always in Adam's world and never in his.

Severus studied the port that remained in his glass. He swirled in around and studied the fire shining through the golden liquid.

What was different this time, that he was so uncertain simply following Adams lead? It was, he realized, the fact that he had grown up. He would never be as old as Adam, however old that was, but he had reached the plateau of maturity. He wanted to meet Adam as equals, as adults, and maybe even as friends.

He also, Severus realized, wanted assurances.

Adam never promised anything, and for many years that had helped him. But perhaps he had finally grown out of that as well. He wanted Adam to promise him to stay around and to mean it.

Something in his chest constricted. It hurt.

\-----------------

Methos thought about betrayal as he flipped through back issues of the Daily Prophet. Real betrayal had to be based on trust. Only if someone trusted you could you betray them. However not all trust was the belief in loyalty. Any belief, if proved false, could be the basis for a betrayal. The belief that someone was innocuous was just as dangerous as the belief that someone was loyal.

With Severus' proven disloyalty, there would be few people that Voldemort believed were necessarily loyal.

However, there were still a great many people he believed were powerless. In a fight with wizards, muggles generally had two strengths and two weaknesses. They had technology and wizards tended to underestimated them. On the other hand, they didn't have magic and they tended to be surprised by those who did. The muggle parents of wizarding children however, while they had no magic of their own, were generally used to magic and had at least a vague understanding of it's uses and limitations.

Voldemort thought any muggle would be at the mercy of any wizard, and he had based this conclusion on the fact that groups of his trained Death Eaters could kill individual surprised and untrained muggles. An extremely foolish mistake on his part of which Methos was perfectly willing to take advantage.

So for the next few weeks he would be researching the families of all the muggleborns who were currently students and the muggle survivors of any Death Eater attacks. If all went as planned, in the next few weeks he'd start making phone calls and soon after that would be personal visits. If things didn't go as planned, there was plenty of leeway in his plan, and he was perfectly capable of doing a fair bit of damage all by himself. But by the time of the final battle, he imagined he'd have a small group of very useful muggles.

He vaguely wondered what Albus Dumbledore would think of his plan. The man had written a letter practically asking for his help. One should always be wary of asking favors of the faerie realm, Methos thought. All the best gifts were so very double edged.

\----------------

"I fear that we might indeed need your Adams help."

Albus and Severus were having tea together in the Headmaster's office as they had each week for the past fifteen years. Despite, or perhaps because of, mounting tensions, they continued to take this time for themselves. Things were too tense and too frenetic for them to not take time away from it all to relax, reassess, and gain a better perspective.

"Why are you so worried?", Severus considered a plateful of sandwiches and finally chose one after deep consideration. "You've only learned of Adam's existence recently and while he can certainly achieve some rather impressive results, you felt confident in our success before his arrival. What has changed?"

"Sybil has been doing Tarot readings and the results have been disturbing."

Severus snorted. "Of course they are, she thrives on seeing unpleasant futures."

Albus' eyes twinkled over his tea cup. "But only for other people." More seriously he continued, "Recently she's seen White Death appear in her fortunes. It upsets her which makes me believe she might actually be seeing something and if it includes White Death..."

"I am frequently represented by White Death in Tarot readings. Proper tarot readings, that is, by competent seers."

"No," Albus sipped his tea calmly, "you're shown as White Death reversed, the Betrayer. But White Death, in it's upright form, is something else, is a sign of the coming apocalypse."

"It's a sign of change, cataclysmic change yes, but not always apocalyptic. And yes, there will be death involved, but you knew that already. This is war after all. I am not inclined to worry about Sybil's predictions of doom and disaster." Severus wondered how surreal this conversation would get. He rather thought that it would be a bad idea to point out that he had a good guess what the cards were telling them. Sybil might be slightly more competent than he had previously assumed. Although apparently still incapable of correctly interpreting the signs.

"It worries me, though. These signs of mass deaths. I want our people to survive. But on the other hand, I don't want to massacre everyone on the other side. I don't want to either endure or create an apocalyptic event." Albus really did look worried. Sometimes Severus thought he was too Gryffindor for his own good. Any good Slytherin knew to take care of them and theirs and not waste sympathy on the enemy.

"If you were wandless and dying and Death offered you life, would you take it?"

Albus looked startled at the seeming non sequiter, but answered and waited to see where Severus was going with this. "No. It would cost more than my life in the long run."

"Probably. If you were wandless and dying and a stranger offered you life, would you take it?"

"Yes. I always believe in the kindness of strangers. Are you saying I should distrust strangers as much as I distrust the White Death?"

"No. I was going to point out, however, that the stranger could be Death. Death, being what he is, is not obliged to introduce himself and let you make an educated decision about accepting his help."

"Then I would owe him nothing in return."

"Everything costs something. Even if you never pay for it directly, it still costs you. Becoming friends with Death would be difficult whether or not he ever asks you for anything. You are still effected by the realization that things are not always as clear cut as they could be. For there is Death giving you life."

"And that is why it would never happen. Death does not give life, and so the situation would never occur. I am safe to accept help from any strangers who offer it." Albus' eyes twinkled with laughter at his logic.

Severus chuckled as well, but at a different aspect of the situation. Here was Albus announcing that he would not accept Death's help, not three minutes after asking for Death's help since he was nervous about the portents saying Death was present. He wondered if perhaps he should reassure the man. It would also give him a chance to point out the failure of logic and the old mans unknowing hypocrisy. On the other hand, it was dangerous knowledge and there was no real reason to spread it, while there was a good reason to refrain from doing so. Severus did not think Adam would appreciate the knowledge of his identity being made public.

As if he even knew Adam's real identity.

\----------------

After learning about one of Adams more prominent past identities, Severus had felt like he didn't have any understanding of his mentor. Everything had suddenly changed.

"Death."

"Hmm. What about death?"

"You. You're name is Death."

"It was. It is not any more. You've heard the legends, as all good little wizards learn them. Death betrayed his brothers and became Death no more but rather the Beloved Traitor whom his brothers continuously search for. Eventually, according to legend, they will be reunited and the world will end. Personally I'm hoping for that to not happen. Either the meeting or the end of the world."

"You can run, but you can't stop being what you are."

"I'm just a guy. Just Adam, who you've known for over two years now. Get over the Death thing." His mentor was looking annoyed. Severus thought about how he really didn't want to annoy Death. It must be true that he really did still think of the man as Adam.

"No. I can't. I think of you as Adam, but that's not your real name. Your real name is Death."

"No. My real name is not Adam. But it is the name you will call me by. And my real name isn't Death either."

"Then what is it?"

Adam was thoroughly annoyed now. Severus was taller than Adam, but he was still made to feel small and young and extremely vulnerable by the look Adam gave him. "Who are you to ask me that? Names have power, names grant knowledge. And you think I should just give it to you as if it were of no worth, threatened no danger to me?"

Severus didn't answer. He was trying to remember the lessons he had learned under this mans instruction about not flinching in the face of danger or the anger of powerful people. It had stood him in good stead during Death Eater meetings, hopefully it would prevent him from being killed here and now, as well.

Adam sighed and went over to a chair and sat down. "Perhaps I would give it to you, willy-nilly. But the truth is, I don't know it."

"What?" That startled Severus.

Adam laughed in a way that implied that if there was any humor in the situation, it was extremely dark. "When I first came to myself I was as you see me. And I had no memory of a name or a life from before, and there were no people to help me. I recall no childhood, no family, and no identity. And so I gave myself a name. It was, it was Legend. False Story. Ghost. Myth. That is as true a name as I can claim." He smiled rather grimly. "I continue to use that name to remind me of what I am, who my people are, or rather who they are not."

Severus could feel the shock marking his face. The horror, not of the man before him, but for him.

Adam waved his hand, swatting any pity away as if it were a swarm of gnats. "Every few decades I give myself a new name, and it reminds me of what I am, and who I will be for that time. For now, I am Adam. For you, I will always be Adam."

Severus got his face under his control once more. The man before him was right to irritably wave off any pity. He was not a pitiful creature, this man who could and would recreate himself endlessly. This man who had created himself into Adam, his powerful, rather scary, but endlessly reassuring, mentor.

"Adam. Of course."

He had been both right and wrong at the beginning of this conversation. He didn't have any real understanding of his mentor. But when it came down to it, nothing had changed.

\--------------------

"Do you think he'll fight with us?"

Severus was brought back from his memories by Albus' question. "I don't know." It was his standard reply when asked anything about Adam. It was almost always true.

He leaned back into the cushions on his chair and sipped his tea. His eyes narrowed as he thought through the question. "No. I don't think he will."

"Why not?"

"Because he is too good at it." Severus suddenly closed his eyes against the pain of a revelation. He respected Adam for the ability to create himself and then recreate himself over and over again. And recently he had been glad to know that it was possible to recreate oneself from a spy into something, someone, different.

"Severus?"

"It just occurred to me that I have no idea if I'll ever see him again, after the battle. I don't think I'm his student any more." It had not occurred to him that he might recreate himself as someone who was not Adam's student.

One of the things he liked about Albus is that for all of his inane, and quite amusing, chatter, he did know when to be quiet. "He is a talented killer. But he gave it up, before I ever met him. The last vestiges of that life linger, and he taught me how to defend and attack with my knives. But his life now is one of deceit and manipulation, rather than fighting, and that is what he taught me. And I'm through with that. Ever since Kingsley betrayed me, I've been retired from spying. I'll fight to the bloody end, but not as a spy. And Adam won't follow me in this new direction. I've, I suppose you could say I've dropped out of his school. I haven't studied potions under him for years, and now I'm no longer studying subterfuge."

Severus had to stop talking and close his eyes for a minute to get control of himself. His eyelashes were suspiciously damp when he looked up, but his voice was as controlled as ever when he said, "I don't know what he'll do. And I don't want him to go away."


	6. part 6

Severus prowled the battle field.

He held his wand in one hand and a dagger in the other. He was tense, despite the fact that the battle was over. The war was over.

Harry Potter had triumphed over Voldemort in a suitably spectacular manner. Given all the buildup to this one duel, you would have thought the actual event would have been rather anti-climatic, or at least he, Severus, had thought as much. But no, the great boy-who-lived, garnered even more fame for himself with the spectacular light show he put on while killing the dark lord. Severus sneered at the various bodies laying around. Unfortunately they were already dead, and so he couldn't kill them.

He thought about kicking them but there were already photographers on the scene. Most of them were crowded around Potter though.

He would never like Potter, but he had come to accept him as a fact of life. Adam had helped him with that, as with so many other things.

He had been pacing in Adam's library (keeping a wary eye out for any of the Monster Books) and ranting about Harry bloody Potter.

Adam had listened to him from his seat, sprawled in an armchair. Finally, as Severus had begun to run down, he had said, "Harry Potter is a prophesied champion."

Severus had glared at him, but waited silently for further explanation.

Adam continued in a casual drawl, as if he didn't care about what he was saying. "There are two ways to think about prophesies about people. One is that the person in question is an important leverage point on which fate acts. Thus people like Harry Potter will draw attention, both good and bad, and will have rather amazing amounts of luck, again both good and bad. This is the standard explanation offered by divination experts."

Severus nodded his understanding. You had to be particularly attentive to what was said, when Adam spoke in such a dismissive manner.

Adam continued. "However, there is another interpretation, that has less to do with fate and more to do with personalities. I have a friend who was the focus of a prophesy." Despite his casual tone, Adam's eyes were dark with emotions that Severus could not interpret.

"His friendship is difficult to maintain. Mac is judgmental and arbitrary. He makes strict moral demands of his friends, his enemies, and his self. Any failure to live up to those demands is punishable. I despise him for his blindness to all the ambiguities that fill life up, but I also love him for it. His is such a simple world. Sometimes I am jealous of it, even as I sneer."

"And he is your friend? He sounds worse than Potter, if that's possible."

Adam smiled wryly. "It's quite possible. But I digress. No one is sure what exactly a prophesy is, or where it comes from. But what if it is merely a seer looking into the future and seeing something that is a logically necessity. I can say, 'the sun will rise tomorrow.' Is that not a true prophesy? What if all prophesies are as simple as that, at least to the seer. A prophet looks into the future and sees a person who is so predictable as a person that their actions are as predictable as the rising of the sun?" Adam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cushions of the chair. He seemed only half awake.

"Who Harry Potter is, is the sort of person who will come into conflict with Voldemort. And who he is, is the sort of person who will continue to fight Voldemort until either he is dead or he is triumphant. Just as Voldemort is the kind of person who cannot allow an intended victim to survive. They will strive against each other until the very end, not because of a prophesy, but because of who they are. The prophesy did not create the conflict, but merely reported it. If only they were different, the fight would be different, but they are who they are.

"They are the type of people that you can not change, and that you and I will never be. We can only hope to never come into direct conflict with someone like that because they will not give ground."

There were still shadows in Adams eyes when he smirked at Severus. "The only thing to do with such a person is to help him on his way towards whatever conflict is his, and possibly put a few of your own enemies in his path."

Severus had snorted with amusement, but had thought long and hard about that conversation. He wasn't sure that he believed the second analysis, but he did begin to change the way he acted around Potter. Whenever possible, he ignored the boy rather than criticize, and he no longer argued against the boys central role in the battle plans being developed.

Whether it was destined or not, Adam had been right that people were who they were and should be treated as such. There was no point in Severus wasting himself on a pointless struggle to change Potter.

Thinking back on this conversation and his subsequent thoughts, he realized that there was little point in trying to change Adam either. Adam would act as he would act and should not be blamed for being who he was.

Severus forgave Adam for his absence.

The anger at Adam's absence surprised him more than his forgiveness of it, though others might be more surprised at Severus forgiving anyone than being angry. But Severus knew there was no reason for him to be angry. Adam had never promised to be there. He had never even implied that he would be there. He had let it be known that he would not partake in the final battle. But still Severus had expected him. He had expected those denials to be a ruse.

As the weeks passed, and the time drew nearer, and as the hours passed and the time drew nearer, and as the battle commenced, and as it finished, Severus kept an eye out for his mentor to appear. But Adam was never there.

How could a man who had been Death, who kept a collection of wands from wizards he had killed, and who helped the Order develop their battle plans, not help them to implement those plans? Aside from Dumbledore, none of the members of the Order of the Phoenix had been in a pitched battle before. They had researched and known intellectually what was going to happen, but none of them had the experience that Dumbledore had, or that Adam must have.

But Adam would not talk about it. And he had not appeared for the final battle.

It was only after the battle had been fought and won, that Severus tried to slow his breathing, and calm his pulse, and thought he understood why Adam had not come. The battle had been vicious and all of Severus' intense concentration had been bent on identifying the people racing around as either ally or enemy and killing the enemies. It had been an intense adrenaline high. For a time it had been as wonderful as flying.

Death had rode for centuries, and Severus was now sure that Adam had taken delight in his killings. He had not only killed with experience and expertise, but with passion and joy. The greatest of masters all loved their subjects. Adam was a master of killing.

Adam would have enjoyed the battle too much. It would have awoken something best left sleeping. As a Hogwarts professor and alum, Severus castigated himself, he should have known better. Was not their very motto a warning? Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. Don't tickle a sleeping dragon.

We are who we are, and that must be taken into account in any battle plan just as the terrain and the weather. Not just skill, but personality is a vital feature of any plan.

The final battle had started shortly after daybreak. Adam had not been amongst those at Hogwarts waiting the night through for the light that would allow them to more easily kill their targets. Nor had he been waiting at the battle ground.

Despite the letter that had told him that he would not be taking part, Severus had half expected Adam to appear with some magic or muggle device. He realized that he was upset at this loss even though it wasn't a loss, because it was nothing that he'd ever had. For once, he didn't feel bitter, he merely felt unhappy. He didn't feel betrayed, simply disappointed. After that there were other things to think about.

The battle had been quick. It was over before noon. At the end, Severus just stood there still quivering with adrenaline and no standing targets remained. He was not the only one wandering around looking surprised, hoping to find someone to curse. It was a bit of a let down, he wasn't anywhere near to the limits of his energy. Almost every casualty had been on the Death Eater side.

The Aurors marched their prisoners away. A few Aurors stayed behind to sort through the unconscious survivors of the last battle to find any stunned Death Eaters to be taken away later. The medi-wizards were also sorting through the people remaining, dividing the living from the dead.

It was really only at this point that Ron Weasley first pointed out how many of the Death Eaters had died with a certain kind of wound: one or more small holes. Sometimes the holes went all the way through the Death Eater, but sometimes there was only an entrance hole that contained a small piece of metal. Several of the Death Eaters had a single hole in their forehead. "What curse does that? It's nothing like I've seen before."

Severus was both tired and energized, an unpleasant combination that was a poor excuse, he felt, for not having noticed this before. The Weasley boy was right, it was not the result of any curse that Severus had seen before. However he had seen similar injuries. Nearly twenty years ago, when he had first met Adam, Adam had killed ten Death Eaters with a muggle device that left that exact type of marking.

He suddenly felt much better than he had. He felt warm and comforted. Adam had been here. However, surely it would be difficult for even Death himself, to go completely unseen while killing so many people in front of so many witnesses. It was something for him to figure out later. He hugged to himself the knowledge that Adam had come, that Adam cared for him. He said nothing aloud.

It was Hermione Granger, the know-it-all, who answered the unspoken question though. For once he was grateful for her seemingly endless need to educate those around her. She looked at the body that Ron Weasley was pointing to and said, "that's a gun shot wound, I think. A gun is a muggle device that throws a small metal object called a bullet with extremely fast speed. Their pretty illegal in Britain. And I didn't see anyone using a gun." She frowned with concentration and after a further moment of looking at the body, she looked up and around finally focused on the surrounding hills. "I'll bet there was a sniper."

"A sniper? Use real words, 'Mione."

"Sniper is a perfectly good English word, but it is muggle. It's a person with a gun who shoots from a distance. Guns can be made to be extremely accurate even miles away. Our sniper could have been practically anywhere on those hills. With a brown or gray cloak, they'd be practically invisible but would have a perfect view of the entire battle field. However it doesn't seem like something the Headmaster would think of. I mean, snipers have sort of a bad reputation. Killing from a distance and all that. They use surprise and generally try to avoid being seen at all. Not very honorable."

Severus smirked. No, the headmaster would not have approved. No, it was not very honorable. But it was safe and deadly.

Adam had been here after all. Severus' smirk turned into a real smile.

The war was over.


	7. part 7

There had been five snipers arrayed around the hills. All muggles with connections to the wizarding world and grudges against Death Eaters.

Conner O'Reilly felt better than he had in the last four years. He had watched his daughter fight in the final battle and he had been there to defend her. She wasn't aware of this.

She thought he couldn't deal with wizards in a wizarding war and she had even convinced him of his powerlessness in an attempt to protect him. He had been bitter about it. Hadn't he fought in a terrorist war before? He had lived in Ireland most of his life, and when his Sara had first told him about the war, he had started telling her about his experiences with the underground. She had been shocked, but he needed her to know how to deal with terrorists and small land wars. It had been all he could do since he was just an old muggle.

At least that is what they had both thought. That is what he had thought until he had gotten the call from a man named Adam.

Adam had introduced himself as a muggle who was not happy with the Death Eaters threatening muggleborns at Hogwarts and he wanted to do something about it. Would Conner like to meet with him to talk about it?

Conner had thought that no one knew about his role in the Irish underground but he had the distinct impression that this Adam knew exactly what his skills were. He also knew this was an offer he couldn't refuse.

In the end, he had met up with Adam and three other muggle parents. Two of them had outlived their children due to the Death Eaters in the previous war. All of them had experience with long range rifles and had accepted the fact that they would be killing people. Adam had provided the weapons, the knowledge of how the battle was going to take place, and the portkey that would take them to the battle. He had explained how they would slip into and out of the wizarding world and what exactly was going to be happening in the valley where he would take them. He had taken them to their posts, made sure they were prepared, and after the battle while the victors on the battle field started cleaning up, he took them all back to muggle London and made sure they were okay with what had happened.

Somehow Adam had known what the wizards' plans of attack had been and where the battle was going to be held. As far as Conner could tell, none of the wizards knew about Adam and this little group of muggles.

As disturbed as he was at resuming the role of assassin that he had given up after the birth of his first child, Conner was happy. For the first time, he wasn't upset with the fact that he couldn't be a good father to his daughter, the witch. Because even if he didn't have magic, he did have the ability to fight for her. He could help protect her as well as any wizard could.

Conner O'Reilly grinned maliciously. Those wizards had better be careful from now on. Because they could no longer write off muggles as useless. He and the others would make sure that other muggle parents were never convinced of their weakness. He wouldn't kill again unless it was necessary. But if it ever again became necessary, he knew that he had the power even if he didn't have the magic.

\-----------------------

"I am nearly certain that Adam brought a group of muggles to the final battle."

Severus sipped his tea, watching Albus over the rim of his tea cup. He briefly hummed an "mm," which could be interpreted either as a request for further information or as appreciation for the tea.

Albus assumably decided that it was an encouraging noise since he continued. "From what we can tell, there were five muggles with weapons, the kind that Miss Granger refers to as guns. At least, we found evidence of guns and the people using them did not use any obvious magic. I assume that if they were wizards there would have been some evidence of magic. Thus, I hypothesis they were muggles. The Ministry assumes that no muggle could harm a wizard, and so these five people must have been wizards."

Severus continued to sip at his tea.

"The Order of the Phoenix set the time and place of the battle. And I told Adam when it was going to be, where it was going to be, and I sent him a portkey to bring him there."

Severus considered the sandwiches laid out before them on the table.

"Severus!" Albus finally looked slightly annoyed.

"Yes?" Severus attempted a look of innocent inquiry. He wasn't sure how successful it was.

"Wizarding society is hidden for a reason. How could he bring muggles into it and tell them to kill us?"

"I think you've missed the point. From his perspective, from the muggles' perspective, how could you have kept them in ignorance and allowed wizards to kill them?"

Albus looked rather disturbed at this perspective. "We tried to stop Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and eventually we did stop them."

"Albus, it is times like this when it is obvious that as much as you try to be fair, you are a pureblood and have never lived in any society other than the wizarding one."

"How so?"

"You don't need magic to be dangerous, and you don't need magic to be worthy of respect."

"Of course. I respect muggles."

"Then you are failing to demonstrate that respect. Muggles are as human as any wizard and should not be enslaved, but neither should they be protected for their own good. They have just as much a right to fight and die and kill as any wizard."

Albus slowly nodded his understanding. They sipped their tea in silence for a minute. "Adam did bring them, did he not?"

"He didn't tell me what he was doing. But, yes. I knew he was responsible as soon as I saw the wounds."

"He terrified Voldemort, according to young Harry. And Fudge will be furious but also deeply scared when he realizes that muggles killed so many wizards in the final battle. Even the ghosts of Hogwarts are wary of your Adam, did you know?"

"I wondered if I had dreamed that."

Albus quirked an eyebrow and looked inquiring, but Severus remained silent as he remembered the events that had been made foggy through pain and potions.

Normally the loud crash would have had Severus springing to his feet. Even laid out in the Hogwarts infirmary and filled with various potions to heal him from the beating Lord Voldemort had ordered as a preliminary to his death, Severus was jolted to some semblance of consciousness by the sound.

Further clatters and crashes were eventually identified as Peeves making a mess. Severus struggled to maintain his awareness and clear his brain somewhat so that he could order the poltergeist away, or perhaps summon the bloody baron. Before he managed anything, someone else spoke.

"Poltergeist." The single word was both a command and a warning. Severus recognized his mentors voice and relaxed. Adam would know what to do. None the less, Severus tried to stay conscious to see what happened.

"Ooh, who do we have here." Peeves chuckled with glee. In a singsong voice he said, "Somebody's wearing Death Eater robes."

"Poltergeist. You will be silent and leave the infirmary alone. This is supposed to be a place of rest."

"And what if I don't?" Peeves moved to knock over a stack of reference books on curses.

"Do you know what you are, poltergeist? You are a little bit of life force, a little bit of quickening, that is not attached to a body."

"And without a body you can't do nothing to me." Peeves giggled and pushed over the books which all thumped to the ground. Severus was rather glad of the sudden sound since it gave him another jolt that awoke him from the half-slumbering state into which he had slowly sunk.

"No. If you had a body, then you would be anchored to this world. But since you do not have one, I can swallow you up. It is a natural talent of mine, the ability to absorb another's quickening." Adams voice was amused but also spoke of vicious intent. And this time it was Adam that laughed. A soft, low laugh that was short and barely audible.

Severus thought at first that it was the laugh that had caused the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck to rise. But the prickling sense continued long after the laughter had disappeared.

It was perfectly silent for a long minute as some sort of presence seemed to fill the room. Then Peeves began talking again, but this time he was begging.

"Please, Sir. I didn't mean anything by it. I'll be perfectly silent. Please. I'll be good. Good, good, good. Oh, Sir. Don't do this to me. Be merciful. Please. Please, Sir."

Peeves' voice grew ever more frantic.

Severus grew more disturbed as Peeves' voice brought up the memories of other voices begging. He had seen too many torture sessions to not recognize the horrified and fearful begging.

Severus struggled to open his eyes, and managed briefly, but saw only the flicker of shadows. He did manage to make a noise.

Suddenly the overwhelming feeling of presence was gone, and the small hairs on his body settled once more. Peeves stopped begging and started rambling protestations of gratitude. Even that ended with a single word in Adam's voice. "Silence."

Then there had been a hand his head, stroking his hair.

"Shh. Sleep. You're still healing. The poltergeist is gone from the infirmary but not from Hogwarts."

Severus mustered the effort to murmur, "how?"

Luckily, Adam understood the question.

"Every living creature has a life. And this life is made up of little bits of your life and other people's lives. In your life you have a little bit of Lord Voldemort's life and you have a little bit of Dumbledore's life and a little bit of each of your students' lives." Adam continued to stroke his hair.

"Those we kill, in particular, will always be part of us. We carry them around always. This is, of course, metaphorical. For you at least. But some of us, take it a bit more literally.

"Poltergeists, or any kind of ghost really, is a bit of life that isn't currently being carried by someone who is alive. After a while, they tend to dissipate, but until then, I am perfectly capable of absorbing that little bit of life and carrying it with me, as if I had killed the original. And I've found that those who have died are even more wary of oblivion than those who have yet to experience that first death."

Severus had drifted off to sleep under the pressure of the potions and the soothing hand of his mentor, but the phrase "bits of life" stuff in his mind. He dreamed of a life like a patchwork quilt, made up of bits of this and that. Then a man in white was there and the patchwork quilt was a cauldron filled with ingredients that Adam stirred. The potion turned dark and pure and calming and filled his entire vision.

When Severus next woke up, it was day and Dumbledore sat by his bedside.

"Should I be scared?"

Severus startled out of his meditation as he tried once more to recreate the memories that were more dreamlike than real. "What?"

"With so many people scared of your Adam, I just wonder if I should be scared as well." Albus' eyes twinkled with amusement but the question itself was serious.

"Yes. Of course. He is a dangerous person. But at the same time, no, you don't need to be nervous. He is not a threat."

They both drank their tea and thought in silence.

"Little bits of life." Severus murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I think what makes Adam so dangerous is that he is not predictable to anyone but himself. He once said that he was made up of little bits of the lives of other people. He is a thousand different people. When confronting a dark lord he can be a greater dark lord, when confronting a child he can be childish, when confronting a scholar he too can be an intellectual."

"Most people change depending on who they're with."

"Yes." Severus felt his lips curl up in a faint smile. "Yes, but they rarely have so many different people they can change into and have such perfect control over who they are at any given time."

\-----------------------

It was several months after the final battle that Severus realized he felt good. For the first time in his life it seemed, the good days outnumbered the bad. The war was over. It wasn't just in recess, but finally over for once and for all. Lord Voldemort was completely destroyed and the rest of the Death Eaters had all been rounded up. He was no longer a spy. He was completely retired from any wizarding conflict. Someone else would have to deal with the future politics of the wizarding world, he no longer cared.

Instead, he focused all of his concentration on his research. He wasn't a spy, he was merely a potions master.

The academic community would not appreciate his use of the word, "merely." Now that his focus wasn't divided between discovering hidden information and keeping himself alive, with potions research in his spare time, his research was going better than ever before. He already had his place in the history books as the first real wizard spy, but he was now rapidly creating a place for himself in the history books as one of the most outstanding potions masters.

And he was getting on better with the people around him. He occasionally had real conversations with his fellow professors. They no longer had any reason to distrust him, and he no longer had to act around them. Of course, he was still nasty, but he was no longer shifty. He was more relaxed in his bitterness and even that was slightly less since he had received an Order of Merlin, first class.

And he was corresponding with Adam.

After the last battle he had gone to the white marble mansion to find it empty. He had felt empty after the end of his purpose in fighting the dark lord and the loss of his mentor. He remembered the end of the last war when Adam had simply walked away and into some other life of which Severus had no knowledge. He had wondered if he would ever see his mentor again. The thought that he probably wouldn't was unpleasant. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he really and truly didn't need Adam. He was an adult, accredited, and fully confident in his own power.

Instead, he just wanted the presence of his old mentor, he liked him. He had purchased a new owl and sent it as a gift to Adam along with a letter letting him know that he no longer considered Adam his mentor, but that he would still like to consider him a friend. He had watched the owl fly off, hoping but not really expecting to ever see it again.

He had gotten a response and it was the most relaxed communication from Adam he had ever received. It was written on a muggle "Congratulations for Graduating" card. It had been pleasant and interested in what he was researching and how his life was working out. It had been the start of a correspondence. He hadn't felt at such ease with Adam since the first year of their acquaintance when Adam had focused most of his training in the area of potions. After that, he started learning more about manipulating people. Now, again, they discussed mostly potions, but also Severus' attempts to become more social.

\------------------------

"What's that you got?"

"It's a letter from a friend." Methos sat on a stool in Joe's bar and had been rereading the most recent letter from Severus. It told him about a recent potions experiment that had come out with unusual results and some new ideas that Severus had had. There were a few tangential comments about students and professors. Life at Hogwarts continued.

It was quiet in the closed bar. MacLeod had brought in some paperwork to do on one of the tables, keeping Joe company as he cleaned. Methos had stopped by to get a beer and had settled into the companionable silence to read his letter and mentally compose a response.

Joe continued to clean glasses at the bar while watching Methos, in hopes of getting more information out of him. Finally he was rewarded.

"An old student. My most recent student."

At this Mac looked up from his work, "your student? Who is he?" Mac was apparently trying to keep a pleasant expression on his face and make his question appear to be one of mild curiosity. Methos didn't buy it for a minute, and he knew Joe didn't either. Mac was already preparing to meet an enemy.

It would be easier, Methos thought, if Mac were just this wary of any new acquaintance. But generally speaking, Mac was painfully naive and trusting about people. However, while Mac had eventually come to accept Methos and his past, any of Methos' old friends were automatically considered enemies. All the people Methos was attracted to were ruthless in some fashion or another, including MacLeod - perhaps MacLeod most of all. But Mac seemed to think of himself as completely different from every other killer that Methos knew, because he only killed 'bad guys.' Methos had to stifle a snort of laughter as he thought about what Severus' comments on that would be.

"He's no one you need to worry about. I doubt you'll ever even meet him." Gods know I hope you don't ever meet, Methos thought to himself but did not say aloud. But for all of the necessity of keeping his friends separate, he realized as he sat in the bar with Joe and Mac, that he missed Severus. Methos was never entirely free to be himself. He didn't even know who he would be if he were not constantly wary. Being paranoid was such an intrinsic part of his personality. But at least around Severus he didn't have to hide his paranoia. He still wore masks, but it was one less mask than usual.

He looked at the folded letter in his hand. He missed Severus and their conversations. But Severus was now permanently installed in the wizarding world with no reason to visit the muggle world. Severus didn't like the muggle world. And Methos didn't like the wizarding world. It was dangerous to him.

"Tell me about him. Why is he writing to you?" Mac had pushed his chair back from the table and turned to look more steadily at Methos. Methos wondered if Mac even realized that he had just given himself room to leap up and pull out his sword, all because Methos had mentioned a student. Methos rather thought that it was a completely unconscious act.

Methos shook his head at both the thought and at Mac's question. Surely the wizarding world was no more dangerous than the world he currently lived in with all of the immortals coming through to meet MacLeod. And MacLeod himself was a danger. Champions and prophesied heroes were always difficult people.

Methos had convinced himself previously that living around MacLeod at least made sure he didn't get sloppy. Constant Vigilance! as the Auror motto was. That argument would be equally true of any time in the wizarding world. He remembered telling Severus that "those who have died are even more wary of oblivion than those who have yet to experience that first death." It was easy as an immortal to fall into the rut of taking absolutely no risks. But it was just as dangerous to be controlled by one's fear as it was to go out courting risks.

He had spent time in the wizarding world before this. Was there really any reason for him to stay away?

No.

Methos smiled wryly.

"No, Mac. There's no reason for you to know anything about him."

\-----------------------

Some months into the new school year Severus was working on one of his own experiments while keeping an eye on his seventh-year class when Adam strolled into the room.

Severus kept strict control of his expression and managed to keep his jaw firmly in place despite it's desire to drop. "Adam." He knew his eyes had to be absolutely shining.

"Severus." Adam peered into his cauldron, sniffed a bit, and then stuck one finger into the bubbling mass, pulled it out and licked it. Severus winced. Adam looked thoughtful for a minute before saying, "needs more ashwinder eggs. And perhaps some cinnamon."

"Adam. You know I hate it when you taste test my potions. And you're setting an absolutely deplorable example for my students."

Adam grinned at him.

Reluctantly, Severus grinned back.


End file.
